Commentary

Every day these other prosecutions remain alive, democracy in Australia suffers. The cases send a chilling message to prospective whistleblowers: don’t speak out or you will pay the price.

It was hard to watch the bureaucratic machine perpetrating injustice – Mark Dreyfus must now intervene in the other two cases

On the first day of March this year, Scott Morrison declared his commitment to democratic principles. ‘My government will never be backward when it comes to standing up for Australia’s national interests and standing up for liberal democracy in today’s world,’ the prime minister told reporters.

The only people brought before the courts over illegal spying and war crimes are the people who helped expose them.

In early October, the ACT Court of Appeal refused to allow the trial of whistleblower Bernard Collaery to go ahead in secret, behind closed courtroom doors. A one-page summary said secret trials erode public confidence in the court and open the door to political prosecutions.

Secret evidence, secret hearings and secret judgements. Each step in the prosecution of Bernard Collaery comes with another layer of opacity. If it were not so serious, the accumulation of secrecy in this case would be comedic.

Sitting in the magistrates court in Canberra this week, I felt like I was watching a scene from Franz Kafka’s The Trial – the famous novel in which a man is arrested and prosecuted by a mysterious authority for an unknown crime.

Sitting in the magistrates court in Canberra this week, I felt like I was watching a scene from Franz Kafka’s The Trial – the famous novel in which a man is arrested and prosecuted by a mysterious authority for an unknown crime.

The prosecution of Bernard Collaery, which returns to the ACT Court of Appeal today, is about right and wrong. It was wrong for the Australian government to spy on our neighbour Timor-Leste for commercial gain.